


Intrinsicate Knot

by Fyre



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: History
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 12:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20507336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: In a palace in Alexandria, a certain serpent had an encounter with a certain young Queen. It did not go as planned.





	Intrinsicate Knot

**Author's Note:**

> Technically, this is part of my [Crossing Paths timeline](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19135411/chapters/45621871), but since it only features one of the lads, I felt it didn't really fit in with the main body of that fic.

**47BC – Alexandria**

She wasn’t much to look at, the young queen.

S’what generations of in-breeding would do for a family, Crawly supposed. She checked her outfit again, comparing it to the bland robes of the two handmaids who seemed to hang on the queen’s every word. Not exactly right, but close enough.

All things considered, the chambers weren’t all that fancy, not compared to other rooms in the palace, though it still had pillars to slink around as soon as her little maids hurried off to fetch whatever weird food-stuff royals were eating these days.

“Not the best suite in the house, this,” Crawly said as she swung around from the back of a fluting pillar, ducking under a trailing hanging.

The queen glanced at her. “You’re new.”

“Me?” Crawly grinned. “Nah.” She meandered down the steps, cloth rippling around her legs. “Been around for _ages_.”

The girl – barely more than twenty – studied Crawly. Her eyes were dark and intense and Crawly had a funny feeling she was being dissected. “And why are you here?”

Ah, that was the cue. Always made it easy when you grabbed them by the curiosity.

“I heard,” Crawly purred, all but slithering closer, “that Julius Caesar is in the building.”

An imperious eyebrow arched over an equally imperious Grecian nose. “If that’s all that you have heard, you are considerably behind on the times.” The queen reclined back on her couch, spreading a hand. “Is that all you have, _new girl_?”

Crawly leaned closer. “Could do with a friend in high places, couldn’t you?”

The queen’s face gave nothing away, a small serene smile on her lips. “What are you suggesting?”

Crawly shrugged. “Find some leverage on the man,” she suggested. “I’m sure there’s something stupid he’s done that can be turned against him to make him amenable to your wishes. The King of Bithynia springs to mind.”

“The king was stupid?” The young woman’s eyes gleamed. “Or what Caesar did with him was stupid?”

“Oh, you’re a sharp one.” Crawly laughed as she leaned down on the back of the couch. “Call it some friendly advice.”

“And you’re my friend, are you, new girl?”

Crawly grinned at her. “Of course, your Majesty.”

Cleopatra smiled that enigmatic smile again. “Then thank you for your advice.”

Crawly bowed and retreated, considering it a job well done.

The fact she went back to the same damned queen eight days later said a lot for her self-restraint.

“You _seduced_ him?!?!”

The queen looked up from the scroll she was working on. “Ah, new girl.”

Crawly folded her arms, narrowing her eyes. “You _seduced_ Caesar.”

Cleopatra shrugged, picking up her pen and making a notation on the scroll. “I didn’t see any reason to waste a valuable resource,” she said. “Why taunt a creature and anger them with cruelty when you can win their favour with sweetness?”

A valuable resource.

Crawly stared at her, opening and shutting her mouth. “But he– I mean, everyone says–“

“That he’s lecherous?” Cleopatra said mildly. “That he has numerous affairs? That he has a weakness for royalty? That he can be won over by anyone?” She raised her eyes to Crawly, her expression cool as ice. “Yes. I know. I simply had to make sure I was the one who did the winning over.” She set down her pen. “And now, I have the support of Rome’s most powerful man.”

Crawly gaped at her. “But you–” She flapped her hands uselessly. “But he–”

“I took your advice, new girl,” Cleopatra said with a mild smile. “I _did_ make him amenable to my wishes.”

That, Crawly thought in admiration, was a bloody good point.

________________________________________________

**41BC – Tarsus**

The halls were filled to overflowing.

Even as he wove his way through the throng, Crawly could tell it was one of _those_ kind of celebrations, the kind that would go down in history and be remembered, even if no one who attended was sober enough to remember exactly what they were remembering.

The cause for celebration was the fleet that was being constructed on the joint orders of Mark Antony of Rome and a certain queen of Egypt. She – along with many of her court – were attending the parties, occupying tables and couches in the greatest of the halls.

According to whispers he’d heard, she’d been summoned for less celebratory reasons. Then she showed up on a gold ship and dazzled everyone, even the General, who – until that moment – had been frothing about her rumoured affiliation with Cassius, one of Caesar’s murderers. Romans, Crawly thought wryly. Throw a bit of gold and wine and them, and they were anyone’s.

Crawly had spotted the queen easily enough when she arrived, dressed to the nines, surrounded by her fluttering coterie of maids and servants, but the queen wasn’t the target tonight. That honour went to her co-host. Not that it was going to be a challenge. Tempting Mark Antony to do something was like telling a fish to swim and given the man’s past record, he’d probably be retreading old offences.

Still, Crawly wasn’t about to turn down an easy job.

Mark Antony was further down the hall, laughing and talking. He was well-known for his good humour, his good parties and his good belly for drink. A man like that was easy to approach and Crawly slithered his way lazily through the crowd, considering what little embarrassing scandal he could poke the man into. Something that would have repercussions would be best, especially if the repercussions wouldn’t just affect him. Crawly had to admit he was a big fan of the ripple effect. Drop a rock of temptation on one idiot’s head and see how far the chaos followed.

Course, the easiest target – and the single one that would cause most offence to everyone on both sides of whatever political divide was currently happening – was a certain young queen who had enjoyed getting one over on Crawly.

The demon grinned.

Problem solved, he thought cheerfully, heading in the direction of Mark Antony and planted the seed of a thought easily enough.

Of course, he couldn’t help hanging around to see how badly things went, which meant he was still there an hour later. Lounging on a couch, he examined the dregs of his stolen goblet of wine, and sighed. Humans could be so infuriatingly slow.

Something brushed his foot and he looked down the couch to see the queen of Egypt standing there. More significantly, she was _looking_ at him, which was always a slightly worrying thing for a demon.

“New girl,” she murmured with that annoying enigmatic smile he remembered so well. Her eyes flicked over him. “Or perhaps boy this time.”

Crawly sat up, eyeing her with guarded suspicion. “So you _are_ a witch, then?”

She raised her eyebrows in clear amusement. “My family line was born of the Gods. We see what is before us, even creatures such as you.”

Crawly groaned, falling back on the couch. “That’s how you did it, isn’t it? You knew what I was from the off!”

The queen lifted her shoulder in a mild shrug. “Have you come to bring… great wisdom to me again? Or are you here for the wine?”

Crawly made a face up at her. “Like I’m going to tell you.”

The queen’s eyes danced. “It will make itself clear, I have no doubt.” She motioned with one hand and one of her slaves moved forward, setting down a golden pitcher, no doubt filled with the highest quality of wine. “If you are here for the wine, this is yours.”

Crawly considered it. “And if I’m not?”

She inclined her head graciously. “We will see.”

She glided off, the revellers parting before her like the river before the Ark of the Covenant, and Crawly watched her go, her servants streaming behind her. Did they even notice she was talking to nothing – at least nothing visible to human eyes – or was that expected when you worked for a royal who claimed to be divine?

He leaned over grabbing the pitcher from the table and sniffed at it. Well, least he could do was enjoy the good stuff while he waited for the ripples to spread.

__________________________________________

**40BC – Alexandria**

Crawly stared down at the tiny humans.

“What the Hell…?”

He’d had an assignment to the city to do some minor tempting when word had reached him about something far more bewildering. No one gave him a second look as he strode into the palace and through the towering rooms to reach a room now designated as a Royal nursery.

The Queen’s fresh children.

He reached down and gave one of the swaddled infants a careful prod. The baby – a girl – gave a shrill wail.

Nurses hurried over from their couches, fussing and checking the children. Crawly watched them, bemused and didn’t even notice that he was being watched in turn.

“And so you come again, new girl.”

Crawly whipped around, quick as a cobra, to find Cleopatra standing only a dozen paces away. She looked tired, which wasn’t really surprising if she had just squeezed two new people out of her body, but unlike some, she still had colour in her cheeks and that gleam in her eye.

“Mark Antony,” he said.

She smiled, walking slowly closer. “You seem surprised.”

“Well, _yeah_. Last I heard, he was shacked up with the new brat-Caesar’s sister!”

The queen gazed mildly at him. “Men will do as men must do to keep their heads on their shoulders,” she said. “You turned his sights in my direction, did you not?”

Crawly flushed. It wasn’t often a human could call him out on his misdeeds. “Well… technically, kind of sort of suggested he might… yeah. Okay, yeah I did.”

She was less than an arm’s length from him, her eyes liquid and dark. “You filled a bowl already overflowing,” she murmured.

Crawly made a face at her. “Well, yeah. Everyone knows he’s got an eye for the ladies.”

“You see the world through such a narrow eye,” the queen said, shaking her head consolingly. “I have many things that he desired: power, rank, position, _money_.” She took the last step, closing the distance between them, bringing them nose-to-nose. “Do you imagine I did not intend to cultivate an allegiance one of Rome’s leaders by every means at my disposal?”

He stared at her. “There’s ‘allegiance’ and then there’s…” He waved vaguely in the direction of the twin babies. “Not everyone ends up rolling onto their back for an allegiance.”

She met his eyes. “That,” she murmured, a flash of devilry in her eyes, “was entirely _my_ pleasure.”

Crawly stared at her, then grinned. “Was it, indeed?”

“As you have said,” the queen murmured, “he is known for his reputation with women. A well-practised man has more skill than a child. Sometimes, that is what is required by a woman, even a queen.”

“Eh…” Crawly swayed his hand from side to side. “Six and half a dozen, there. By my experience, most of them are animals.”

“Not,” the queen replied with the wickedest of looks, “if you hold their leash.”

Crawly laughed in delight. “Oh, now _that_ sounds like a story worth the hearing.” He knocked her on the arm, which made her blink in half-offended surprise, then smile crookedly in response. “Go on! Tell me! I won’t tell _anyone_.”

Cleopatra considered him, then nodded. “Come. I have wine in my chambers.”

He followed her, leaving Mark Antony’s newest babies wailing in their nurses’ arms.

____________________________________________

**30BC – Alexandria**

“Look, I’m not saying it’s a bad idea. It’s just… not a very good one.”

Cleopatra slid a bracelet onto her slender wrist. “My options are becoming more limited by the day.” She turned on the stool, looking at Crawly. “If you have another alternative, I would be happy to hear it.”

That was the trouble, though.

Cleopatra was in an impossible situation, one that she and Antony had dug themselves further and further into in hopes of digging a way out the other side. It was a bugger of a thing, even though Crawly had half-expected it ever since the young Caesar and Antony started butting heads. She’d tried dropping subtle hints about the danger at their drinking sessions every time she popped by Alexandria, but to no avail.

“I don’t think there _are_ any alternatives at this point,” Crawly admitted. “I mean, not unless you want to go for a death-or-glory stand. We all know how that would end.”

The queen nodded. “I know. Which is why this is the only way forward I can see.”

Crawly sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, propping her arms on her thighs, trying to imagine what it might be like to order someone she cared about to die. Pale hair and bright eyes and a smile like sunlight came to mind and she winced at the thought. “But asking him to kill himself?”

“Do you think this would be my choice if there was any alternative?” The queen’s face was drawn with fatigue and sorrow. “I must think of my people, my country.” Her breath was slow and shaky. “My children.”

“Do you think it’ll make a difference? Really?”

“I don’t know,” the queen admitted unhappily, “but he _is_ their traitor and their enemy and perhaps it will be enough to keep the wolves from Egypt’s throat.”

“And if it’s not?”

Cleopatra turned away from her, picking up the small copper mirror. She looked into it, but Crawly had a feeling she wasn’t even seeing it at all. The poor woman loved Anthony, no matter how much of an absolute tit he was, but she was – above everything else – the leader of a country. Leaders didn’t get to make the easy decisions.

Crawly looked down at her hands, which were bunched in the fine linens of her dress. “At least,” she said slowly, “it would give him the dignity of not being killed like an animal. They’re not exactly… nice when they kill their enemies.”

“Mm.” Cleopatra laid the mirror down facedown. Her voice was brittle when she spoke. “I must give the order.”

“You don’t have to.” Crawly rose, moving closer to her, letting a whisper of temptation filter into her voice. “If– if this is what you need done, send someone to tell him you’re dead already. Say you’ve finished yourself. Let him decide what he wants to do. Don’t– force his hand. It can be his choice.”

Cleopatra shivered. “It seems like a cowardly way out.”

Crawly crouched down beside her stool. “Not cowardly. You’re letting _him_ choose.”

She turned, meeting Crawly’s eyes. “You tell him,” she said. “Use that persuasion of yours. If I look at him, I know I will change my mind and I– We cannot hope to survive as a Kingdom as long as they know he lives and is by my side.”

Crawly nodded, rising. “I’ll make sure he believes it.”

________________________________

**Ten days later**

It wasn’t difficult to slip by the guards at the doors of the queen’s chambers in the palace. The only real problem might have been the man Octavian had left as a watchful dog inside her chambers. Epaphroditus was a loyal servant, but even the most loyal of servants couldn’t resist the temptation to watch the object of their affections from the window.

Crawley approached the queen’s bedchamber, moving into plain sight, and heard a muffled gasp from Charmion, one of the queen’s two maids.

Cleopatra – seated on one of the low couches – turned. Grief had aged her, lining her eyes, her face pale and more grey threaded through her dark hair. “Ah, new girl. I wondered if you would return.”

Crawly drew closer to her, giving her a sympathetic nod. “I heard you were still alive.”

The queen nodded grimly. “He has not spoken of his plans,” she said, “but I know I am to be displayed as a trophy of his victory.” She turned over her hands, showing linens bound at her wrists, a sardonic smile twisting her lips. “I am not… permitted to follow Anthony.”

Crawly glanced around the room, noticing how sparsely it was furnished. Combined with Octavian’s bodyguard, there were few opportunities for her to take her life. “Is that what you want?” she asked, looking back at the queen.

Cleopatra smiled sadly at her. “Better that than eternally an enslaved prize displayed in the streets for _their_ amusement. I will _not_ allow them that triumph.” She searched Crawly’s face. “But you knew that before you came.”

Crawly hesitated, then nodded. She’d know the woman long enough to know Cleopatra wasn’t the type to lie down and surrender when there was still an ounce of fight left in her.

And humanity being what it was, Octavian, predictably enough, had proved to be as much of a bastard as Crawly had come to expect. Family trait, that. And technically, while Crawly wasn’t meant to still be hanging around, Hell never objected to squeezing a few extra temptations out of people.

“Can you help me?” Cleopatra asked, holding out her hand. Stripped of her jewels of state and her heavy bracelets and rings, her hand looked so thin and frail. “Can you help _us_?”

Crawly squeezed her fingers, knowing how much some humans would’ve given for that chance. It wasn’t as if she could really _actively_ do something, but it was easy enough to suggest a guard might be a little sleepy or a watchdog might hear a whisper that his ladyfriend would meet him in the halls or any number of tempting little intrigues.

“I can make them turn a blind eye,” she said quietly, “nothing more.”

Cleopatra’s grip tightened on her fingers. “That is more than enough.” A slow smile turned her lips up. “And once it is too late for it to be undone, I must ask a last boon of you.”

Crawly studied her. “I know that look,” she said wryly. “That’s the look you get when you’re about to mess someone around.”

The queen’s dark eyes gleamed. “Only a little,” she said. “I will write a message for you to carry to him. I want Octavian to know that he lost this game.” She closed her other hand around their linked ones. “I want him to know he did not dictate the terms nor stay my hand nor get what he wanted. He did not _win._”

Crawly couldn’t help chucking in reluctant admiration. “You’re a stubborn baggage, you know.”

Cleopatra smiled at her. “I know, my friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse any errors in the historical stuff. I kept on finding contradictory information and hope I did it all right.


End file.
